19. Ayden

Chapter 19

Ayden

I could’ve swatted a willow branch against a nest of hornets and not seen as much frenzied activity as we found upon returning to Grove’s Pass.

“Is every Ranger in Melucia here?” Eilidh asked.

Green-cloaked men and women hurried about the work of shoring up the town’s palisade and the few watch towers spread across its length. More drilled or marched, while others practiced archery, shooting at an endless row of hay bales. The clang of swords and clatter of armor rang out as often as men shouted.

“Looks like it,” I said. “Come on. Let’s go see the Captain.”

An entire troop of guards stood watch outside the entrance to the headquarters building. I knew several by name, but none offered a friendly wave or kind word. Ten eyes scrutinized us as we entered, their owners’ hands resting firmly on the pommels of their swords.

“Sheesh, is it colder here than on the mountains?” Eilidh glanced back.

“There is a war coming. I would expect no less.”

“I guess.” She sounded more incredulous than impressed.

More guards stood vigil outside the Captain’s office. Only when we’d shed our weapons and been thoroughly frisked were we allowed to enter. Captain Whitman sat behind his desk, head down, eyes fixed on a stack of reports. Three officers and two runners stood nearby.

“I said not to interrupt—” Whitman glanced up before finishing whatever surly remark he had planned. “Byrne? What in the fucking seven hells are you doing here?”

“Sir.” Eilidh and I snapped to attention a few paces from his desk. “We have a report for you, sir,” I stated.

Whitman tossed a parchment down as though it had offended him. “Out with it. I don’t have time for you to stand there all day.”

I had never known the Captain to be so short with anyone, much less toward Rangers returning from a duty station—especially not Rangers returning unexpectedly from duty.

I looked at the runners, then the other officers. “Sir, this may—”

“Everyone out,” Whitman barked. The runners leaped to comply. The officers eyed us as they strode by. The moment the door slammed shut, Whitman pinched the bridge of his nose and muttered, “What now?”

Eilidh looked up at me.

“Sir, the quadrants are overrun. Kingdom troops in six-man units have shot most of our Rangers. A few are unaccounted for, but I could not spare men or time to search for them. We returned the moment we realized the border was lost.”

Whitman sat back and stared at me, as though he couldn’t believe a word I’d said—or perhaps he believed me but didn’t want to accept it. His pained grimace was the same either way.

“You.” He pointed to Eilidh.

“Eilidh Campbell, sir.”

“Go get cleaned up and report to . . . damnation . . . report back here in one hour.”

“Yes, sir.” She spun and fled the office faster than I’d seen her enter the clearing on the mountain.

“What did you leave out, Byrne? What haven’t you told me?”

“Sir . . . I—”

“Fucking hells, Byrne. It’s written on your face. I don’t have time to wheedle it out of you, so talk. Now.”

“Sir, sorry, sir.” I did not fluster easily, but the Captain’s gaze crawled beneath my skin and burrowed throughout my chest. “Declan Rea is back.”

His brows shot up. “Mage Dani sent him on a mission weeks ago. Was he successful?”

“I . . . I could not say, sir. I think so, perhaps.”

Whitman rose and leaned across his desk. “You’d better start making sense before I toss you out of this office and assign you arrow catching duty. Did Rea find help or not?”

“I think so, sir. He should be here soon. You will want to—”

“I will want to wring his neck for taking so gods damned long.” The Captain sat again. “Fine. I’ll get a full report from him when he shows up. Go get something to eat and an hour or two of rest. I need you on the road this afternoon.”

“Sir?”

The last thing I wanted was to leave on another mission when Grove’s Pass was in danger and needed every armed man it could get. Plus, if he sent me away, I would miss Declan’s return. We had been separated long enough.

Setting Declan aside for a moment, I wanted to stand with my brothers and sisters when the enemy came. This fight—or one like it—was why the Rangers existed. Sure, we’d spent centuries tending wildlife and chasing bandits, but protecting the Melucian people from invading forces was our central mission. Never mind that an invasion was unthinkable. Guarding against one was our duty. It was our purpose.

The last thing I wanted was to be sent away and miss my chance to—

“Byrne, are you listening?”

Shit, the Captain had been talking.

“Sir, sorry, sir. I guess—”

“You look exhausted.” He blew out a heavy breath. “I said that we need to recall our men from Fleet Town. There’s a good hundred Rangers working port duty. At any other time, they would be shorthanded, but with a blockade in place, they’re useless up there. We’ll need their bows when the Kingdom attacks in force, that’s for damn sure.”

“Your runners—”

“I need my runners here. You’re going to Fleet Town.” He scribbled a note on a blank parchment and held it across his desk. “Take this to the stables now. They’ll have a mount and supplies ready by the time you are ready. Two hours, Ranger, no more. Our situation is dire, and we need those men.”

I hadn’t meant to lower my head, but it fell with each word the Captain spoke.

“Yes, sir.”

He raised another parchment and began to read. A moment later, he seemed to remember my presence and spoke without looking away from his page, “Send the others back in, and tell the guards I don’t want to be disturbed this time.”